


Silver Bells

by Mistflyer1102



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: 25 Day Holiday OTP Challenge, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Post-SPECTRE
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-04 11:52:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5333102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistflyer1102/pseuds/Mistflyer1102
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the holidays--and after everything that had happened, Bond and Q felt compelled to snatch that little bit of normalcy for themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It took Q almost thirty minutes to find the Christmas decorations from last year.

He grinned almost at once when he opened the linen closet in the hall towards the bedroom and found three moving-sized boxes, one marked as ‘Tree’ and the other two marked as ‘Flat’. His writing, that is; he’d been alone when moving into the flat in November, and James permanently added himself into Q’s life not long after the first New Year’s in the new flat. Q hadn’t pulled them out last year—he and James hadn’t been sure that they would be spending Christmas in London or with Q’s family—but he figured it would be fun this time around. Mindful of the partially-open bedroom door, he carefully lifted the first two boxes out of the closet, moving them into the hall before leaning in to grab the third—and heaviest—box. _One, two, three_. He gritted his teeth and then stepped back, dragging the box out.

_Rrraaaow!_

“Shit—goddamn—Toby, I’m sorry!” Q yelped, looking up in time to see the black-and-white kitten crash into the bedroom door before disappearing into the dark bedroom. “I’m seriously thinking of taking Marcela up on her offer now, and getting you a little orange hazard vest because if she can’t see you, I don’t have a snowball’s chance in _hell_ of seeing you in the dark,” he muttered under his breath as he dragged the third box out into the hall and began pushing it towards the living room.

After lugging the three boxes into the living room, he made his usual morning mug of tea, preparing the coffeemaker for James before wandering back into the living room, already eyeing the boxes. Outside the window, he could see the first snowfall of the season, and quietly thanked the higher powers that it started on a Saturday morning instead of Monday. He settled down on the floor and began going through the first box, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth when he found the tree lights from last year, some of which were laser pointers for Missy. _No testing Q-Branch equipment this year, though, not with a new kitten in the flat._ A kitten that was most likely bothering James now, even though the agent was probably still dead exhausted from his three-week run in the States.

He was halfway through the second box, pulling out strands of lights meant for the flat’s windows when he heard the bedroom door open and heavy footsteps. He looked up as James entered the room, wearing a pullover sweatshirt and pajama bottoms with a familiar, moving lump in the sweatshirt pocket that mewled every few minutes. “Morning,” James murmured as he leaned down for a kiss, nearly knocking Q’s glasses off. Q reached up to frame James’s face, helping to keep the agent steady right as James pressed warm lips against his own, making a small grumble of contentment even though their foreheads knocked into each other. “Did I ever mention how much I wish you’d stay in bed a little longer on the weekend?” he whispered, grinning as Q pressed another kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“James, I suspect if you had your way, I’d never leave that bed unless M himself came knocking to drag me out and back to work,” Q said, grinning as he and James rested their foreheads together. “Your coffee is all set, all you have to do is press the button.”

“Thank you.” James pressed another kiss to his hair, and then headed back into the kitchen.

Q grinned to himself before going back to the box.

He untangling the lights when James finally returned to the living room, coffee in one hand and Toby in the other. Q heard James pause, and then a faint _thump_ as Toby was neatly deposited onto the couch. “Did you step on Toby’s tail this morning?” James asked as he sat down cross-legged next to Q on the floor.

“Accident. I’m going to either make him a little orange vest, like Marcela suggested, or pay someone to make him one. I’m used being able to see Missy, but I swear she’s moved to a new home on the bookshelf or some other high place because I can’t remember the last time that I saw her on the floor,” Q said, plugging the lights into the outlet near the wall. He began to reach for the last several feet of tangled cable, but James easily reached over and began to untangle it himself. Q then began to examine the strand in his lap, scanning for any dying or burned lightbulbs. 

“Out of curiosity, where did these come from? I don’t remember them from last year,” James remarked as he held the cable lightly so that Q could pull the lights towards himself as he examined each section of lights.

“That’s because I wasn’t sure if Mum was going to insist on us visiting that year, didn’t want to pull them out only to barely use them. Since Aunt Jackie is hosting this year, everyone is going to the States, and, well, Mum knows how I feel about trans-Atlantic travel,” Q said, satisfied to find that all the lights were in perfect working order. He lifted the strands and gestured with his chin towards the window. “Want to help?”

“Of course. Although I do have one question before we start,” James said, taking a swig of his coffee as Q eyed him with a slight wariness that came from years of experience of hearing those words in Q-Branch and the field.

“The answer is no, we’re not rigging them to do anything except emit light,” Q said, eyes narrowing suspiciously as he leaned on an arm when James shook his head.

“What in these boxes _hasn’t_ gone through the R &D labs?” James asked, keeping a straight face save for the slight twitch in the corner of his mouth.

Q scowled, and feigned a smack to James’s shoulder. “All kidding aside…none of it. No Q-Branch influence this year; if the labs need something field-tested, they can use one of their own trees,” he said, making a face. He nearly stifled a squawk a second later when James neatly upset his balance with a nudge of an elbow to the arm Q was leaning on, causing Q to fall onto him.

James turned out to have more patience with the lights than Q, something Q suspected was due to the fact that the agent wasn’t clambering over furniture to run the strand of lights along the top of the first window that overlooked the streets of London. Given that Q did not want either of them to hang over the edge to get the lights onto the wall of their building, his initial idea was to put them along the edge of the window, attached to the glass to remain visible from the outside. James tweaked the idea by attaching them to the frame rather than the glass itself, twisting the cord slightly to keep the lights against the glass. The two tackled the last two windows in the same manner, even though the last window ended with Q swearing a blue streak when one of the bulbs popped and the entire damned strand promptly went dark.

“LED, Q, LED lights don’t do that,” James said, not bothering to hide his grin as Q rewrapped the faulty light strands around an arm and deposited the whole mess back into its box.

“I’ll just get more bloody lights, I’m not wasting my time to find the one damn bulb right now,” Q grumbled, more irritated than upset.

James soon found the small fake-pine wreath that Q’s family had used when Q was growing up, something that Q’s mother had insisted he keep when he finally moved out of the flat. James _almost_ went to the door with a nail and hammer, damage costs be damned, until Q caught his sleeve in time and offered an unopened pack of Command strips and hooks.

It was almost lunch when they finally finished, and Q put the one empty box back into the linen closet. He was about to take the still-full boxes of tree decorations and put them away when James stopped him. “Why not?” he asked, glancing at the boxes before looking up at Q again.

Q knew he probably looked ridiculous, grinning broadly in the middle of the hall laden down with boxes while still in his pajamas and askew glasses, but for once, he didn’t care.

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Q, we’ve got another thing in the mail today.”

“Again?” Q twisted around from where he sat between the sofa and the coffee table to face Bond as the latter closed the door to their flat, the few thick envelopes that Bond had picked up from their shared post box in Bond’s free hand. The nearby laptop emitted soft carols as Bond set the envelopes down in front of Q, who made a face as he picked up the top envelope and studied the return address. “My mother must have given out the flat address to the family, andthen told everyone about us,” he said, pushing the second envelope in the stack in Bond’s general direction as the agent hung his coat up and toed his shoes off by the door. Bond glanced back at him in time to see Q grimace, and then shake his head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think she would go and do this, I know it’s embarrassing,” he said, burying his face into his hands as Bond moved to sit on the floor on the other side of the coffee table.

“Actually, it’s not so much as embarrassing as interesting…I don’t think my family did this even when I was younger, as much as I can remember,” Bond admitted, opening one of the envelopes and pulling out the holiday card that screamed ‘ _Merry Christmas!’_ on the front and _‘And a Happy New Year!’_ on the inside in glitter-covered letters. He examined the photograph of the family of five that had slid out, mouth quirking slightly when he spotted that the youngest was holding a sign that said _‘Hi Alex and James, from across the pond!’_ in block letters. “How much has your mother told them, do you think?” he asked as he handed the photograph and card over to Q, who switched cards with him.

“Whatever we told her, I’m sure. The only reason Aunt Mara won’t be sending anything is because she’ll wait until the most inconvenient time to drop in on us, unannounced,” Q said, warily eyeing his mobile, which lay harmlessly on the edge of the table. He adjusted his wool jumper before reaching for another card. “Uncle César has too much work this season to keep her contained, so Mum warned us that we’re all on our own.”

Bond nodded, studying the photographs of Q’s Aunt Shelby and her two daughters; Q had said there was a third living in the States with her own family. A thought occurred to him as he turned the photograph around to examine the scrawl on the back of the picture— _does he ever feel isolated from them because he can’t do something similar because of the potential security risks?_ He glanced at Q, who was studying another photograph from another card, and caught the strange glimmer of delight mixed with sadness as he set the photo down for the card.

“Have you ever considered sending one yourself?” he asked impulsively, tilting his head when Q looked at him in surprise.

“Well, aside from the problem of having my picture all over the place, I really didn’t want to have to include the cats just so that they didn’t realize how lonely I actually was,” Q replied, stumbling over his words near the end of the sentence. He shrugged a shoulder as he reached for another card. “And I—I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable about it, just because not only because of the risks, but I didn’t know how you felt about that sort of thing to begin with,” he said, opening the card to what Bond could see as a wall of text. _Another story about the year_. A few of Q’s family members had written summaries of their lives in the one snapshot of a year, namely those Q hadn’t seen in year. Without thinking further, Bond reached over and rested his hand on Q’s wrist, catching the other’s attention. “Let’s do it this year,” he said, maintaining eye contact with the familiar hazel that he’d loved, and occasionally missed seeing while he was abroad, in the past two years. “I think it’s fair to say that we’ve earned it, after this past few months. There’s no reason why we can’t have this one little ,” he said, wrapping his hand around Q’s wrist, gently squeezing it as though to reassure Q.

For a moment, he could see indecision warring in Q’s mind. But, right as he started to retreat, already raising his hand and opening his mouth to call the idea off, Q grinned before glancing up at him. “You get the camera and I’ll get the cats?” he offered, setting the cards back down on the coffee table.

Bond smiled and got up from where he sat, heading to front table where he’d left his mobile.

The two ended up on the sofa with the mobile camera and two rather reluctant cats; Toby at least remained still when Bond tucked him in the folds of his suit jacket, but Missy sprawled over the two of them in an effort to break free. Bond managed to get a few photos before Missy finally let out a loud yowl and climbed onto Q’s shoulder before jumping down to the floor from the back of the sofa. Stifling his laughs, Q reviewed the few photos before selecting one and sending it to the printer in his home office. “What do you think we should say?” he asked as Bond tried to unwrap the jacket from around Toby.

“Maybe just well-wishes, we can’t exactly talk about what we did over the year. Kincadewould have my head on a platter if he knew half of the shit I got up to,” Bond said, looking up when Q offered open hands, and he handed over the tangled kitten and jacket, ignoring the protesting mewls. For a moment, he studied the photos that Q had left on his mobile before he carefully selected the one Q had chosen, and then moved it to another album on his mobile before deleting the rest.

“Mm, same here. Mum still thinks I do low-level work for MI5,” Q said, grimacing as he glanced at Bond. “What does Kincade think we do?”

“Banking, with a side hobby of hunting,” Bond deadpanned, grinning when Q snorted in amusement before setting the freed kitten back down on the ground. “My father did that, no reason to think that I wouldn’t eventually get there as well,” Bond called after Q as the latter headed towards his home office, only feigning the hurt in his voice.

“And to think bankers were only lethal in the boardroom.” Q countered dryly from the office. “Now get over here and help me with writing _something_ that doesn’t implicate us or won’t give our respective guardians any reason to worry even more over us.”

Bond snorted. “I highly doubt Kincade will stop worrying, period, but I will be impressed if you pull that off,” he muttered under his breath as he headed towards the home office, taking care to step over Toby as he walked past the kitten. His heart still lifted slightly, when he caught the still-present grin on Q’s face a few moments later, and he sidled up behind Q and rested his chin on Q’s shoulder to watch Q work on the photograph in a program on the computer.

_No, we don’t have to worry anymore this year._

 


	3. Chapter 3

“I still can’t believe we lost the bloody power here in the flat.”

Q heard James hum softly under his breath before the agent tightened his grip around Q’s naked waist, curling around Q slightly before settling down again. “’M not complaining,” James said after a moment, words muffled against Q’s skin as he pressed another sucking kiss to the back of Q’s neck. The two were curled up on the sofa, buried under several layers of throw blankets, two duvets, a comforter that Q had found in a box in the hall closet, and two cats. Candles lined the flat, reflecting merrily off of the darkened colored lights that lined the windows. The landlord had sent an email around earlier about a blown fuse box, and Q had gone home to check on the cats and partner only to be ambushed by James the moment he walked into the door. 

Q closed his eyes, smiling as he felt James press a kiss against his temple before slowly continuing the gentle line down his jaw and along the slope of his neck to his collar. “You’re lucky I did all the check-ins with agents this morning, I would have had to go back, and it would have been ha— _arder_ to come home after that,” he mumbled back, voice catching when James shifted his position to press closer in time with a gentle bite to the crook of his neck. “Fuck you,” he muttered under his breath, shuddering slightly as he felt James’s hands begin to wander.

He grinned when he felt James quietly laughing behind him, skin sliding against bare skin as Q turned to face James, vaguely aware that Missy was mewling in protest of losing her position. “I believe you already did,” James murmured before leaning down for another kiss, his groan reverberating through Q’s chest as Q reached up with one hand and gently wrapped it around his neck to hold him closer. 

He hummed softly when James finally withdrew, giving them both a chance to catch their breaths. “If that’s your way of telling me that you’re about to get up, could you please get some tea for me?” he asked, sticking his lower lip out in a feigned pout for all of two seconds, losing his composure to a smile of victory when James abruptly snorted in amusement.

“ _Fine_ , I suppose I can,” James said in mock annoyance, stealing another kiss before he carefully wiggled out of the blanket nest, tucking the edges back against the back of the couch to keep Q sealed in the warmth. 

Missy let out a squawk when she slid backwards, claws out as she jumped onto the back of the sofa and over the edge. Q faintly heard James swear as he dodged the extended claws, and then snuggled back against the pillows. Toby joined him a few minutes later, purring softly as Q lifted an edge of the blanket to let him into the warmth. He closed his eyes, listening to James clattering in the kitchen and swearing under his breath as he hunted down the camp stove that Q had ‘borrowed’ from Aunt Mara during the last family get-together. 

He hadn’t realized he’d dozed off until he heard footsteps approaching the sofa again, and he jerked awake when he heard the soft _clink_ of ceramic against the stone coaster on the table beside the sofa, the familiar herbal scents wafting in the air. “Thank you,” he said, stifling a yawn as he reached for his mug. “Oh, and watch out for Toby,” he added, twisting around as James pulled up the edge of the blanket, sharp blue eyes scanning the cushions before he reached down and scooped up the kitten in question.

“He’s always underfoot,” James grumbled as he set Toby down on the blankets, reaching out a second later to catch the kitten right as Toby scrabbled for balance. “Always in the way,” he muttered under his breath as he settled down next to Q, who let out a soft hiss when he felt James pull him flush against his own body.

“Damn it, James, you’re fucking cold,” he whined as he tried to scoot away from James, letting out a squeak when James only laughed and pulled him back.

“Why don’t you help me warm up then?” James murmured into his ear as his hands dipped below Q’s waist, and Q stifled a groan before turning back around to kiss James again, upsetting Toby’s balance for the third time that evening. Q yelped a second later, however, when he felt claws dig into his leg.

With a growl, James leaned over, picked up Toby, and neatly deposited the kitten on the floor. Q scowled at him for only a few seconds before James kissed him again, hands roaming as he carefully turned the two of them around so that he hovered over Q, bracing himself with elbows on either side of Q’s face as Q reached up to frame his face with slightly trembling hands and pull him closer.


	4. Chapter 4

_“I’m ready for you to come home now, Toby misses you. I miss you too.”_

“I miss you too. Toby, I think can live without me,” Bond murmured almost to himself as he wandered through the street markets in Guadalajara, sharp blue eyes studying the numerous items being offered for sale. It had been a mercifully quick mission to drag back a lingering Spectre suspect to the extraction point for six undercover MI6 and CIA personnel. The Americans had initially wanted the suspect for unrelated charges, but Bond had been faster than the CIA agent in locating and capturing the man. Afterwards, however, M had loudly declared from his spot in Q-Branch that he was going to leave the room and he didn’t give a damn about what anyone—including Bond and Q—did while he wasn’t there.

“ _Toby misses you, he tries to sleep on your suits if I leave the closet door open,”_ Q admitted, not sounding apologetic at all as Bond paused, craning his neck slightly to get a better look at a stall that wasn’t too far off from where he stood. “ _And it’s more of a ‘he tries to drag your suits off the hangers and roll around on them’, but I try to keep the closet doors closed.”_

“Thanks,” Bond murmured, smiling slightly to himself when he spotted a promising stall. “Q, I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to hang up so that the person I’m about to talk to doesn’t think I’m completely crazy,” he said, heart sinking at the thought of having to cut their conversation short already.

A soft sigh on the other line, and Bond almost backtracked. “ _All right. But don’t blow anything up, don’t get into trouble, and for the love of God, please come home on that flight tomorrow. I’m picking you up from Heathrow, and I don’t want to be there only to find out that you got on someone’s wrong side just because you had too much free time on your hands,”_ Q said, voice audibly exasperated over the link.

Bond snorted, briefly wondering if he was the only one who heard that undertone of sadness underneath Q’s voice. “I love you,” he whispered a moment later, breath catching when he thought he heard Q swallow thickly on the other end.

_“I love you too_ , _”_ Q murmured back before Bond heard the final _click_ of him signing off.

Then he took a deep breath, and then approached the stall displaying numerous varieties of sweets, careful to flash a charismatic smile at the seller as he stood in front of the display. He glanced at the nearby sign, raising a brow when the sign offered special bags to put the sweets in as gifts.

Bond already knew that out of the numerous staff he interacted with on a daily basis, Q, Eve, and Tanner were notorious for enjoying sweets; Q was the only one who was public about it, Tanner was unusually picky, and Eve was the more adventurous with new varieties between the three of them. He frowned slightly, reading the little description cards next to each dish as he shifted on a foot, his mind still lingering on Q’s words. Q had rarely, even after the official end of a mission, expressed his wishes for Bond to return home since both knew that Queen and Country came first, personal lives came second. Q, whom Bond knew would have had to readjust after joining MI6, still slipped on occasion with mutters under his breath once he felt that Bond could no longer hear him (Bond could, but there was nothing he could do, not when he had his duties as a Double-O). Q would _never_ ask him to leave, nor would Bond ask the same of him. 

_God, and to think of what he’d had to deal with this year, especially from me._

Bond slowly exhaled, the corner of his mouth twitching as a thought occurred to him. He tilted his head, pretending to study the display, before pulling out his wallet. He smiled again at the seller, who inclined his head, and then began requesting his order, careful to slip a little with his Spanish in the very low chance that he was still being followed by disgruntled henchmen from the mission he’d just completed.

He remained careful with checking his six even as he headed back to the hotel, three decorative plastic bagsof sweets tied neatly and tucked underneath his arm. Feeling more confident now with his idea for his Christmas gift to Q, he entered the hotel and checked into his room, tucking the bags underneath his wool coat to deter Q from spying—and he wasn’t stupid, Q _would_ be checking the security cameras to make sure that Bond followed through on his promise in checking into the hotel. _Of course, the gift isn’t exactly something I can put under the tree…and Q will definitely be getting it early…oh wait, does he even want to get a tree like last year?_

Bond didn’t answer that question even in his head. He knew Q would want to get a tree, even if he claimed he wasn’t going to rig it with Q-Branch tech. Which Bond would believe it when he saw it. Q would also most likely keep the laser pointers from last year to keep Missy and Toby suitably entertained.

_Maybe I’ll suggest the tree when I get home, get him distracted with that so I can get his gift unnoticed._

Bond let out a slow breath as he headed towards the lifts. He was fairly sure he could get away with it, but then again, this was Q.

_Challenge accepted, my dear._

 


	5. Chapter 5

Prior experience prepared Q for James’s mischief this year.

“James, I swear, if you drop the tree on me and I’m picking pine needles out of my hair and jumper for the rest of the month, _you’re_ going to be on the couch for just as long,” Q warned as James easily slid into a slot in the painfully small car park just behind the numerous rows of Christmas trees. The sign had announced that they did have the option to cut their own tree, but Q was already leaning towards asking for help. “ _And_ that includes not shaking the damn thing on _me_ , do you understand?” he asked, scowling when James nodded solemnly, the corner of his mouth still twitching in amusement. “James, I’m serious. One pine needle will equal to one night on the couch.”

“Testing for dry needles before purchase is a common practice, my dear Quartermaster,” James replied patiently as he turned the car off; the two were borrowing Tess’s van again, this time without having to surrender James’s own Aston Martin as collateral. “Besides, Missy gotmore pine needles than you did,” he pointed out as Q undid his safety belt.

Q grimaced as a thought occurred to him. “Not to mention that we’ll have to be careful about Toby; if anyone is going to knock the tree down this year, it might be him,” he said, scowling when James snorted in undisguised amusement. “James, you could at least _pretend_ to be worried,” he said, scrunching his face in displeasure when James shrugged a shoulder.

“Q, he survived the first break-in of 2015. If an armed killer can’t take him out, then I doubt a tree will,” James said, grinning before pressing a quick kiss to Q’s forehead before getting out of the car.

Q groaned, letting his head fall against the back of the seat with an audible _thump_. James had been unusually enthusiastic about a tree this year, despite having a new cat in the house and the ever-looming threat of missions that was the only hazard of being an agent on call. He had gone along with it, initially suspicious by James’s change in attitude, but then remembered that James had once mentioned that they had earned this little luxury of normalcy after this year. He closed his eyes, willed himself to relax, and then got out of the car, careful to check that the doors were locked before walking across the car park towards the row of trees.

_And the first break-in of 2015 was just us and the intruder being stupid, honestly._ _If I had been more careful about the small rug I got from Aunt Mara, Toby wouldn’t have been able to chew and then pull with a mouthful right when the intruder was partially standing on it._

He found James standing near a row of firs, examining the trunk before moving onto the next tree. “Can’t exactly pull these up to test for dry needles, now, can you?” he teased as he fell into step beside James.

“Give me a few minutes, and I’ll find a way,” James replied, easily nudging Q with an elbow to the ribs. Q smiled to himself as he pulled out a mobile to find a way to test for a good tree without actually shaking it, following James’s black jacket out of the corner of his eye as the agent turned into the next row of trees without pausing in his stride. He frowned at the lack of any specific good information and was about to click the ‘Next’ button when a hand suddenly appeared over the screen, easily closing around the device and tugging it gently out of his hands. “And I think you’re over-analyzing this, we’re getting a tree, not running a mission,” James whispered, bumping noses with Q as he tucked Q’s mobile into his jacket pocket.

“Really? Well, there goes my plan that I would have used to lure you out of the flat ifyou didn’t want to go this year. Certainly worked last year,” Q said, grinning as James offered him his elbow. “Which, of course, begs the question behind your enthusiasm of acquiring a tree…?” he said, raising a brow when James shrugged a shoulder in response.

“Maybe I’m just grateful that we’re still here now,” James replied with a faint smile, leaning slightly to bump foreheads with Q. “Now let’s go find the tree.”

It took several more trees and inspections before Q found one that he liked, a Douglas fir that apparently ran on the small end of the average heights for the trees, but the salesman (the only one that had taken to following them) assured them that the tree was still good for flats or other small living spaces. James tilted his head as he studied the branches and trunk, testing the firmness of the trunk with a hand. Q made a small sound of protest when James accidentally bumped into the salesman with a shoulder when he walked around the tree, the salesman stumbling backwards. Q managed to catch his wrist before he could fall, though, and the salesman gave him a grateful smile as Q turned to face him.

“I’m sorry about him. For someone who is usually aware of his surroundings for work, he can be a bit inattentive while at home,” Q said, offering anapologetic smile as the salesman waved a hand in dismissal.

“No worries. I didn’t fall into a snowbank like last time, he was unusually gentle about it,” the salesman said, brushing a few needles off his sleeve. “Now, this tree in particular—”

_FWUMP!_

Q remained absolutely still, resisting the urge to throw his hands up into the air as the salesman slowly stopped talking at the murderous expression Q suspected was on his face. He very slowly turned around to face James, who remained standing partially behind the fir, a strange expression of guilt and nerves on his face as Q made eye contact with him. “How the _fuck_ did you manage that when the tree _is still in the bloody ground?_ ” he hissed, partially mollified when James took a wary step away from him.

“I hit the trunk. You know dry needles can start a fire,” James said, tilting his head as he shifted in place.

“If it helps, there are only three needles in your hair,” the salesman supplied from behind Q.

James was already nodding before Q could speak. “I know, I know, three nights on the couch. Toby will probably keep me company,” he said, patting the tree trunk beside him. “What do you think of this one?” he asked, the guilt vanishing as he looked the tree up and down. “It’s small enough for the flat, I think the stand will work, and the cats won’t be able to get their claws into it,” he said, standing beside it as though it was something he was bringing to Q for approval.

Q couldn’t keep the scowl off his face. “The cats _will_ find a way to get their claws into it, but let me just look first,” he said, leaning forward as though to study the tree before moving to the opposite side of it from James.

He had to throw all his weight against it to get _some_ needles on James. Petty revenge, but it still made the agent laugh, an unguarded sound that Q delighted in each time he heard it.

 


	6. Chapter 6

“Toby…don’t you fucking _dare_ touch that—Toby!”

Bond grunted in surprise as Q abruptly scrambled after the black-and-white kitten, bracing himself to better support the tree. He turned in time watch Toby, who, deaf to Q’s threats, toddled off with the strand of tinsel that he’d picked out of one of the few boxes that Q had pulled out from the linen closet. Toby let out a squeak and then scampered once he realized that Q was after him, the silver tinsel trailing along behind him. Bond snorted in amusement as Q gingerly stepped over the tinsel, momentarily fearful of injuring the kitten by yanking or otherwise grabbing the tinsel, hovered, and then dove at the best moment. Toby let out a small grunt once Q caught him around the middle, dropping the tinsel with mewled protests as Q tucked him under one arm so he could reach for the tinsel again.

“This is not food, do you understand?” he asked, holding the tinsel up to Toby, who mewled before trying to bat at it. “If there’s one thing I don’t want to do, it’s to take you to the vet because you need it surgically removed,” he said, placing the tinsel on the windowsill. As an afterthought, he wrapped it around the window handle and tucked the end 

“Now he thinks it’s going to be food just because you told him it wasn’t,” Bond remarked, quirking a smile when Q turned back around to him. He gestured towards the tree with his head, where he was still holding it with a hand, and said, “I still think it should be by the windows. Better that a sniper hit the tree than one of us.”

He raised a brow when Q sighed; he’d lost count of how many times they had had this discussion, and something told Bond that Q would ultimately get his way. _Probably because I let him_. “Put the tree by the window, and you lose a vantage point. Put it near the mantle, and you run the risk of two furry attachments,” he reminded Bond as he set Toby on the sofa. He walked back to the tree and gingerly pulled it back towards him. “Sorry about disappearing like that, I didn’t want Toby to choke on the tinsel,” he said after a moment, leaning around the tree to look at James as the latter leaned back to get a better look at the trunk.

“Well, even if it fell, it wouldn’t have done much damage. Except get pine needles everywhere,” Bond replied easily as he looked up at Q, grinning when he saw the excitement visible in Q’s eyes. “Are you ready?”

Q nodded, bracing himself as he gripped the tree trunk tighter.

Bond slowly released his side of the tree before nudging a box aside with a foot. Then he got down onto his stomach, tilting his head to look at something underneath the tree. “Remember, keep it still or it’s going to be crooked and we’ll have to fix it again,” he said as he crawled forward and reached the curtain that Q had laid out around the tree stand. Bracing himself with an elbow, he tightened the screws around the trunk before he glanced towards Q’s socks. “All right, let go of it now.”

Silence, then Q took a few steps back.

The tree remained still.

Bond let out a slow sigh of relief, and then wiggled back out from underneath the tree as he heard Q walk around him towards the box. “Do we still have the lights from last year?” he asked, twisting around into a sitting position as Q folded back the flaps of the box.

“Mm-hmm. Including the laser pointer ones, do you want to keep those?” Q asked, raising a brow when Bond frowned at him. “No?”

“I don’t know, are there going to be proximity alarms on the tree again?” Bond asked, half-joking as Q scowled at him. “If not, we can keep the laser pointers.”

“One time, James, those went off _once_ ,” Q countered as he pulled out the strands of lights, eyeing them warily as he set the first spool aside to pull out the next set. “And yes, I know that scared the living daylights out of you and the cat, but we added the alarms because the Missy didn’t even acknowledge the first field test.”

“Speaking of Missy, how do you plan to keep her from using the stand as a second drinking bowl? I’m not too worried about her, but I don’t know what Toby will do to it,” Bond said as he took one end of the lights and began to untangle them for Q.

“He’ll see it as a toy or food. Wait here so I can get a chair.”

Bond patiently waited for Q to retrieve a chair from the dining table and set it up on one side of the tree. Then Bond started with the lights, wrapping the strand around the bottom of the tree until he got halfway, at which point he handed the strand off to Q waiting on the other side. He then switched places with Q, who continued the next row of lights, and then took the strand when Q reached behind the tree. When they started to reach the upper branches, Q climbed on the chair and Bond took over most of the walking around until he couldn’t reach, leaving Q to finish the strand.

“Do you want to start the next one, or take a tea break first?” Bond asked as Q finished tucking the electrical plugs in the branches.

“Start the next one, and we’ll go from the top down this time,” Q said, smiling softly down at Bond as he glanced down at him.

Bond grinned back at him without thinking, but reached for the next strand of lights. 

They were almost done with the second strand when it occurred to Bond that the strand kept flicking around without either Q or Bond touching it. With a groan, he abandoned the strand of lights and knelt down in time to find Toby curled around the end, the plug caught in between small sets of paws. “Hang on,” he said to Q even as he reached forward and gingerly pried the paws off the strand, gritting his teeth when needle-like claws sank into his own skin. “You are a little shit sometimes,” he muttered under his breath as he tried to pull Toby out from underneath the tree, letting the kitten go when Toby clawed at the tree skirt instead. Straightening up, he said, “All right, let’s try to finish this before Toby remembers that the strand exists.”

Once the lights were up, Q began pulling out the few boxes of ornaments they had saved from last year, setting aside the few laser pointer ones as Bond pulled out a small wooden box he hadn't noticed before. “Another old family tradition?” he guessed, handing the box over to Q, whose brows knitted together in a frown before he hummed softly in agreement.

“One that we can make ours too,” he said, grinning despite himself as he opened the box. He touched one of the objects inside before passing it over to Bond, who turned it around to find several tacky ornaments that had countries’ names emblazoned on it somewhere. “Mum thought it would be cute, to get ornaments from countries we traveled together. Needless to say, given my dislike of flying, all of them we have are from driving distances. She adjusted it slightly a few years later to make it cities instead, so we could have more.” Q glanced at him and said, “She decided to keep those.”

“Mm.” There were only four ornaments in the box—England, Scotland, Wales, and France—but Bond already had ideas for others. Most were work-related, but he made a silent resolution to change that in the new year. 

A crackling sound caught his attention, and he didn’t even look as he reached over and pulled Toby out of the latest box. “I’m getting a collar for Toby, with a bell. Just so we havea warning of when he’s about to get into trouble,” he said, setting the ornaments down so he could reach over and pull the satin ribbon out of Toby’s claws. He then picked up the ornaments again and offered them to Q. “Want to start?”

Q took the offered box with a small smile. “Only if you promise to finish with the star,” he said, his face breaking out into a grin when Bond stood up, picking up another small box of ornaments. He then wrapped his arms loosely around Q’s waist.

Bond pressed a kiss against his temple. “I promise.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

“So, you’re all right with us putting up holiday decorations?”

“As long as it doesn’t affect your work, doesn’t create safety hazards, doesn’t interfere with the day to day ongoings here, and you keep it contained to your work area, I don’t care,” Q said over the top of his own monitor, raising a brow when R nodded and then left the workstation. Within Q-Branch, the decorations had so far been constrained to garlands on the walls, and the tree in the corner of the branch, the latter of which serving both as a boost to the spirit within the Technical Services Station and as a guinea pig for any R&D prototypes. Anything that requires work after testing is automatically off the table for double-ohs, Q thought to himself as he went back to analyzing the field reports for any intelligence that could be of use later. He hummed along to the Christmas carols he could hear from the branch speakers, absently tapping the desk with the hand not currently on the mouse.

He only knew James entered the branch when he heard a ripple of silence underneath the music followed by hushed conversation.

“I hope you have a requisition form for whatever it is that you want,” he said without looking up from the papers in front of him. “Because you’re not getting it without one.”

James snorted, and Q looked up with narrowed eyes. James was still wearing his overcoat as he pulled his gloves off and walked towards Q’s desk giving Q one of his rare, warm smiles. He ignored the hushed whispers of a few techs left in his wake. Techs that were now watching the two of them very carefully. Q ignored them, fighting to keep the smile off his face as James set his gloves down on the desk edge. “Didn’t come here to ask for anything, just happened to be in the neighborhood and I thought I would stop by and see how things were going in my absence,” he said, smirking when Q made a face at him.

“Don’t let Eve hear you say that,” Q warned, shaking his pencil before going back to the report that was open on his external monitor. “She’s still miffed that you thought to use your remaining vacation to tide you over to New Year’s before she did,” he said, glancing up when he heard the scraping of wheels against the floor: James had stolen an empty chair from someone’s desk, which meant that there was going to be a disgruntled tech in a few minutes.

James shrugged. “Didn’t really keep that part of my plans a secret, she probably didn’t think I would actually carry that plan out,” he said, turning himself around in the chair to survey the branch. “Allowing decorations in the branch this year?”

Q scrunched his nose. “You make it sound like I never do that. The only change this year from last is that decorations need to be reviewed for safety hazards before receiving final approval,” he said absently as he pulled a blueprint draft closer to himself, comparing the schematics to the report details. He still had a few designs to review before he himself left for the holidays in a few weeks, even if he would much rather be home with James and the two cats. He glanced up at James to find the agent leaning back against the desk as he surveyed the bullpen. “I should probably also mention that Eve’s already volunteered to handle refreshments for the upcoming staff party.”

“She’s just still grumpy about the spiked eggnog from last year.”

“Yeah, eggnog that I drank and you had to help me home. That was embarrassing.”

James snorted, and Q fought to keep the smile off his face. “I’m still trying to decipher half of the ramblings that I still remember,” James said, his voice light and teasing as Q made a notation on the blueprint.

“Oh God, I’m surprised you still remember what I said,” Q said, looking up while momentarily panicked. He only relaxed when he saw James smirking at him, and then rolled his eyes. He sighed, and then shook his head. “You’re not scaring my staff, are you?” he asked, changing tact as he looked back down again at his work.

“No. More like I’m trying to find out why they keep looking at us expectantly, I didn’t bring any weapons with me today and I’m fairly certain that you’re still doing the same boring work that you were doing hours before I showed up,” James said, which caused Q to look up again and scan his staff this time. True to James’s word, the first two ‘rows’ of techs were pretending to work while snatching glances at them. The techs beyond weren’t even trying to be discreet, just waiting expectantly as their gazes flickered between the two of them.

Q frowned. _What the hell—_

Then he caught Marcela’s gaze.

She must have seen the confusion in his eyes, because she quietly pointed up, towards the ceiling. Confused, Q frowned, and then looked up. 

And then groaned aloud when he saw the bloody mistletoe.

He placed his face into his hands as he heard snickers around the bullpen, James’s chair squeaking as the agent moved his position, most likely to look up at Q, and then up at the ceiling. Q only knew the agent saw it when he heard a sigh. He then risked a look through his fingers at James, who was watching him with a resigned expression…that had a telltale hint of a smirk at the edge. “James, may I remind you that we are at work?” he hissed through clenched teeth.

James raised his hands in surrender. “Wasn’t going to do or suggest anything.”

Q studied him carefully as the agent settled down again in a position that allowed him to see Q and the room at once. He then scanned his techs, who had slowly resumed their work once they realized that nothing was going to happen. Idiots, most likely put the mistletoe there to ambush us. Q waited until he was sure that they were working again before he muttered, “One quick peck,” loud enough for James to hear. 

He caught the minute hesitation in the agent’s eyes, but it vanished as Q set his pencil down and leaned forward. He braced himself with a hand against the table as James turned in his seat and leaned forward as well, cupping a gentle hand around Q’s neck as Q reflexively closed his eyes, his nose bumping lightly against James’s before the agent tilted his head and brushed his lips against Q’s in what appeared, to anyone watching, as a chaste kiss. Q still felt the tenderness, though, the warmth and familiar care that brought him back to the first kiss they had shared almost two years ago, huddled together under the eaves of a building in a little town in Switzerland in the aftermath of a mission together. 

In a blink of an eye, it was over, and he was looking in the brilliant blue that he’d come to love and associate with safety and comfort. James grinned softly at him before gently squeezing his shoulder and retreating back to his chair as though nothing had happened. Q took a few breaths to slow his racing heart and picked up his pencil, intent on continuing as though it was business as usual. 

He knew though, that he was still smiling to himself.


	8. Chapter 8

He faintly heard a soft inhale, and then, “James, are you doing all right?”

Bond looked up at Q, who was eyeing him with more than just a touch of concern in his hazel eyes. The quartermaster looked just as cold as Bond felt, even though both men werewrapped up in coats, hats, gloves and Q wearing Bond’s wool scarf. “Just trying to remember exactly how we managed to pry you out of your office, on a weekday, and wind up at your mother’s house, building a snowman with a toddler that is most definitely _not_ ours,” Bond replied, glancing surreptitiously down at the aforementioned toddler. Little Sarah Parker was more of a pink puffball in her coat and snow pants as she waddled around her side of the snowman, packing handfuls of snow into the base of the snowman, which was turning more into a large, tall mound sticking out of the ground with sticks poking out of random places.

Q hummed thoughtfully as he adjusted his hat. “Well, it started this morning, when you took my mother to the airport, and she panicked in the security line because she thought that she left something turned off in her house, which would apparently cause a pipe to burst if left unattended. So, rather than deal with the hassle, she called me about it, and you offered to drive me here during my lunch break,” he said, accepting the double handful of snow from Sarah to add to the snowman’s ‘head’.

Bond quietly snorted to himself as he accepted the small bundle of sticks and twigs from Sarah. He then offered his other hand for the rocks she held outstretched to him. He still remembered spending yesterday morning at Heathrow. When he had spotted Emily Winfield fretting in the security line, he’d thought she had forgotten something at the small cafe where he’d treated her to breakfast. He was fully prepared to dash to the cafe for said item until she finally fished her mobile out and called Q, her hands moving agitatedly as she spoke into the phone. Q later texted Bond with the news that he was taking a half day to make sure that everything was in order. Of course, the mistletoe incident from yesterday afternoon had derailed Bond’s attention from the incident at the airport.

He was brought back to the present when Sarah stumbled in a small snow pile and collided into him, neatly head butting him in the gut. “You know… that still doesn’t explain the toddler that isn’t ours,” he muttered, careful to keep his voice down as he glanced at Q.

Q snorted. “We ran into a childhood friend of mine, Louisa, and _I_ offered to watch Sarah so Louisa could finish shoveling her parents’ walkway in peace,” he said, gesturing with his chin to the house across the street from his mother’s. Bond followed his line of sight to see that the woman in question had actually finished, and was now brushing off the first of the two cars sitting in the driveway. She looked up, and Bond was saved from reacting when Sarah tugged at the bottom of his coat. 

“Mister Bond, you’re supposed to put his face on,” she said, reaching up to tug the sleeve of the hand that held the rocks as he looked down at her.

“Maybe we should put his arms on first, that way we can put rocks on his face without me dropping all of them,” Bond said, placing the rocks into his coat pocket to better hold the sticks. He let Sarah take two sticks and a good-sized twig before sticking a few twigs on top of the ‘head’. He glanced up at Q in that moment, and gave a mild scowl when he saw that Q was fighting back a smile. “Q—Alex, knock it off. Building snowmen with a four year old wasn’t exactly the first thing that came to mind when we planned this trip,” he said through clenched teeth, narrowing his eyes as Q shrugged a shoulder.

“Wasn’t going to say anything,” Q said mildly as he absently smoothed over snow with his hands. His attention was still fixed on Sarah, who was now digging holes in the snow for what Bond assumed was more sticks and twigs. Or rocks. He offered his hand out and said, “I’ll start with the rocks, you finish with the arms.”

Bond handed over the small rocks, and then moved to stand in front of the snowman. His back may have been to Sarah, but Q was keeping a hawk’s eye on the toddler. Bond forced the two sticks into place on either side of the tall mound, wrinkling his nose when one of the sticks snapped in half. He almost swore, but bit the word back at the last moment when he remembered the third member of their little party. “Your mother is going to be very confused when she gets back, assuming the snowman is still intact when she does,” he finally said, glancing at Q, who nodded, his breaths coming out in small white puffs.

“I can’t remember the last time I built a snowman. If Mum asks, we’ll just tell her that it must have been one of the neighborhood kids, and that it wasn’t here when we came to check on the house today,” he said, tilting his head as he began to slowly walk around the snowman, still keeping his body angled towards Sarah. The little girl was now examining the car that the two agents had used to get there. “I can also ask Louisa not to say anything. She’ll laugh, but she’ll agree. Especially if I give her a satisfactory answer as to why we would like her silence,” he said, voice disappearing into a mumble as he began to carefully place the rocks on the snowman’s face. “Do we have something to use for the nose?”

“If we don’t, don’t tell Sarah. You know that the first thing she’ll suggest is a carrot or something edible, and I don’t know how your mother will feel about attracting squirrels here,” Bond said, angling his body so he could better keep an eye on Sarah. 

“Honestly, I don’t think she will care. I have the cat now, so there’s nothing to threaten Missy.”

Bond absently nodded, taking a step back once he had finished tweaking the ‘arms’. “Are you done?” he asked, glancing at Q, who nodded.

“Yeah…I think Sarah was done long before either of us,” he said, turning back to better watch the toddler as she began to scoop snow together into a new pile. “Well, with this one at least…” he said after a moment as Bond moved around the snowman to get a better look at their handiwork. “Sarah! Sarah, how about we do _not_ build the new one so close to the car?” he said, voice hitching slightly in alarm before he moved away from Bond, snow crunching in his wake. “James and I do have to leave at some point—“

Bond hummed in agreement, not paying much attention to Q as he eyed the ‘snowman’ critically. He may have not built snowmen recently, but he was fairly certain that they weren’t supposed to be massive lumps of snow rising from the ground. A squeal caught his attention away from the snowman, and he raised an eyebrow when he found Q squaring off with a toddler, who had placed her hands on her hips and stuck out her lower lip. “Outmatched already?” he asked, smirking when Q scowled.

“Oh, shush, James.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ficlets are based off the prompts from this link: http://cypress-tree.tumblr.com/post/36866885886/christmas-otp-challenge
> 
> Enjoy!


End file.
